


What's the point of parties?

by karcathy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (cuties), F/F, Fluff, drunk kissing and fluff, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose reluctantly goes to a party, and enjoys it more than she thought she would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's the point of parties?

Jade Harley is one of your best friends. She might even be your best friend, singular. You’d probably do quite a lot for her. This, however, is pushing it.

 

This is Jade Harley, your bubbly best friend, dragging you along to a party because “It’ll be fun, Rose, I promise!” and you really can’t argue with a dozen exclamation marks. You’re not exactly the party type, though Jade certainly is. You and Jade don’t really have that much in common. She’s bubbly, friendly, and outgoing, whilst you’re widely renowned as the creepiest girl in eleventh grade.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you say as you walk apprehensively up to a stranger’s house, “I don’t even know anyone here.”

“You know me!” Jade says, ringing the doorbell and greeting the girl who answers with a broad grin, “And I think I know most of these people. You must recognise some of them! Look, she’s in our art class!”

You glance over at the girl, think you might vaguely recognise her, and sigh.

“I think John and Dave are here, too,” she adds, peering around a corner.

“No, they’re watching a movie,” you say, shaking your head, “Dave didn’t want to go out.”

“What a killjoy!” she says, giggling, and you roll your eyes.

Looking around, you spot a table laden with drinks that look hopefully alcoholic, most likely provided by someone’s brother visiting from college.

“I need a drink,” you say, abandoning Jade in favour of alcohol.

 

Happily, there was alcohol, although it was from someone’s older sister, not their brother. You manage to get hold of a large cup of something disgusting but highly alcoholic, and decide that if you can’t enjoy yourself, you can at least make sure you die of alcohol poisoning before the night is up – or just become catatonic enough not to care. Drink in hand, and already feeling slightly better about this, you decide to search for Jade again.

 

Half an hour later, you’re considerably drunker, but no closer to finding Jade. Stepping around a guy who appears to have passed out in a pool of his own vomit, despite the fact the party only started a couple of hours ago, you head upstairs, searching for somewhere you can hear yourself think. The first door opens into a bedroom, where it looks like at least two couples are trying to have sex fully dressed. They ignore your mumbled apology as you close the door again and move onto the next room. Here, you find Jade, sitting in a circle with four people you don’t recognise, preparing to twirl an empty beer bottle.

“Hey, Jade,” you say, swaying slightly, “There yo-ou are!”

“Rose!” she says, leaping up and grabbing you by the elbows, probably in an attempt to help keep you upright, but actually just making you more unsteady, “Are you drunk?”

“Only a little,” you say, giggling, “Hey, whatcha doin?”

“Playing spin the bottle!”

You think she looks more than a little drunk herself, and that thought makes you giggle even more.

“You should play, too!” she says, pulling you down into the circle.

You attempt to articulate some sort of protest, but fail, and Jade grabs the bottle again.

“Ready?” she asks, and you nod, trying to control your giggling.

With a flick of her wrist, she sends the bottle spinning. You watch it like a cat watches a washing machine, and it takes you a moment to register it stopping in front of you.

“It’s you and me, Rose!” Jade says, muffling her giggles with her hands.

“Huh?” you say, giving her a slightly confused look.

“You have to kiss Jade!” says a girl you don’t recognise, although she’s just as giggly as Jade is.

“Oh. Right.”

You glance nervously at Jade, and she collapses, giggling. You try not to look apprehensive as she gets up and crawls across the circle to you, trying to suppress her giggles. Her lips are warm and soft as they press awkwardly against yours, and her breath smells of alcohol. The kiss is short and chaste, and ends abruptly as Jade’s arms give out and she drops to the floor. Giggling, she peers up at you, and you feel a sudden urge to kiss her again. An urge that, normally, you would ignore, but thanks to the combination of too much alcohol and too little thought, you lean down and press your lips to hers in a sloppy, upside down kiss. Your stomach swoops when she parts her lips, reciprocating the kiss and running her tongue along your bottom lip. Her breath tastes of alcohol, too, and the angle is stupidly awkward, but you don’t care. All you care about is that you’re kissing your best friend and she’s kissing you back and it feels fantastic. You don’t even really care that four strangers are watching you, until you remember that four strangers are watching you and Jade is kind of lying in the middle of their game. As you pull away, Jade giggles, peering up through her eyelashes at you, and you grin at her.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” she says, sitting up, then turning around to take your hand and pull you both to your feet.

“Where?” you ask, glancing back at the four giggling strangers.

You’re in the hallway now, and she leans against the wall for a moment, still holding your hand and looking thoughtful.

“I think there’s a balcony along here,” she says, tugging you gently along the corridor, “I need some fresh air.”

Quietly, you follow her outside, then stand awkwardly next to her, your hand still in hers.

“Was that just a drunk thing?” she asks softly, pulling her hand out of yours to lean against the railing, “The kiss?”

You pause for a moment, wondering how honest to be.

“Partially,” you admit, leaning back against the screen door, “But... only a little. I’d like to have done it anyway, but I don’t think I could have. You know... without the alcohol.”

You’re glad she can’t see you blushing, but you feel like an idiot anyway. When she turns back to you, she’s smiling, and you hope that means you haven’t screwed this up.

“Do you think maybe you’d like to do it again?” she asks, “Perhaps on a semi-regular basis?”

“I think so,” you say, and your face feels too small to hold your smile.

You can feel her still smiling as she kisses you, and you’re smiling too. You think, just maybe, this party was worthwhile after all.  


End file.
